


Gingerbread

by gelowo93



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Baking, Christmas, Gen, puppy, resurrected arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 23:29:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gelowo93/pseuds/gelowo93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin has been baking gingerbread for Arthur's first Christmas after coming back, only he forgot about a troublesome, four-legged rascal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gingerbread

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short thing I wrote this afternoon. It hasn't been beta-d, so any mistakes are my own.

Arthur hadn’t been out that long, but darkness had settled over the small village quickly and now he sped up, wanting to get out of the cold as soon as possible, and also being pulled along by the beagle puppy on its leash. Al must have spotted the house at the end of the road, lit up by the Christmas lights around the window and the lone reindeer on the porch, and he was running to get home, restrained only by Arthur’s firm grip. It was cold though, and Arthur wanted to get inside as much as the dog.

With trembling fingers, Arthur fumbled in his coat pocket for the house key, ready so that he could open the door as soon as they reached it. When they did, Al jumped up at the door, scratching to get in and barking once.

“Quiet,” Arthur muttered, unlocking the door. As soon as it had opened slightly, Al pushed it open with his nose and ran in, dragging Arthur in after him and almost dislocating his shoulder.

Arthur groaned, and dropped the leash. Al went running down the hall and into the kitchen. The door banged open and closed again, allowing the smell of baking to fill the hall, and Arthur wondered whether it had been that that the dog had been able to smell from halfway down the street that had made him so eager to get home, rather than the sight of the house and promise of warmth.

Deciding to follow Al into the kitchen, Arthur shrugged out of his coat, kicked off his shoes, and pulled off his hat, scarf and gloves, leaving a trail of his clothes down the hallway. As he walked, the smell grew stronger, and Arthur thought he recognised it as gingerbread. Not that he was great at recognising all these new foods that Merlin had been cooking for him since he’d returned, but he’d been smelling gingerbread a lot recently, with shops baking it, and occasionally when passing a house while walking Al. Merlin had explained that it was a very Christmassy thing to bake, which Arthur didn’t understand, but he accepted it, much like how he’d learnt to accept most things that Merlin told him these days.

Through the door, Arthur could hear Merlin’s raised voice, and he frowned. Merlin never shouted, not even when Arthur had accidently set the kitchen on fire – he still wasn’t sure how that had happened, as far as Arthur could tell, he had done exactly what Merlin had done the day before while making dinner. But Merlin had fixed it with a flash of his eyes, and had patiently helped Arthur cook beans on toast, showing him how to avoid setting things alight.

There was the sound of things clattering to the floor, making Arthur wince and wonder what was going on in there. He took a deep breath, and entered the kitchen.

On the table were several plates that looked like they had had biscuits carefully arranged on them, but now the biscuits were half eaten, covering the table, and some had made it onto the floor. Baking trays had fallen off the counter, causing more people-shaped biscuits to fall to the ground, a bag of flour was lying on its side - its contents now covering half of the kitchen – and several jars that were normally lined up neatly on the counter had toppled over or smashed, leaking their contents everywhere.

It wasn’t hard to find the perpetrator. Merlin stood in the middle of the room, holding Al in his arms – leash still attached to his collar – and both of them were covered in flour. It had settled in Merlin’s hair making him look like he’d aged twenty years since Arthur had left half an hour ago. Al had some of the gingerbread in his mouth and was chewing it happily.

Merlin turned towards Arthur as he stepped into the room fully. His expression wasn’t angry, as Arthur had imagined. Merlin looked upset and resigned, his mouth open slightly as if he was about to sigh, and he stared at Arthur for a long moment, not speaking.

“Sorry,” Arthur mumbled, walking forward and holding out his hands to take Al from Merlin.

“You didn’t do anything. Unless you told him to come in here and eat the biscuits, but I’m pretty sure he isn’t clever enough to understand that.”

“I… shouldn’t have let him run into here?” Arthur couldn’t help feel slightly confused. Maybe he’d got used to always causing trouble for Merlin, and so now that something wasn’t his fault he still expected to be blamed somehow, even if Merlin would never outright blame him. Whatever it was, Arthur felt bad that Merlin had put the effort into doing something nice for it to be ruined.

“He’s a hyperactive little rascal, I don’t think anyone could have stopped him from causing havoc when he smelt food,” Merlin said with difficulty, because now that Al had finished off his bit of biscuit, he was licking the flour from Merlin’s face.

Arthur couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He caught Merlin’s eye, and a grin burst onto Merlin’s face. He shook his head in an attempt to stop Al from slobbering all over him, but it was futile, and in the end he had to pass the dog to Arthur, who got covered in flour as the puppy struggled in his arms.

“There, you can give him a bath.”

Arthur pouted, and then said, “I’m sorry about your biscuits.”

“It’s fine, I’ve got another batch in the oven that we can have.” Merlin shook his head. Arthur saw his eyes flash gold for a moment, and the room was spotless again, with the broken jars now unbroken and standing up in their place. The only things still out of place were the biscuits on the floor, and Merlin was staring at them, his grin fading.

It didn't matter what Merlin said, Arthur knew he was upset that his hard work had been wasted. He had been trying to do something nice for Arthur, and their troublemaker of a dog had ruined it - the dog that Merlin had bought to keep Arthur company while he was at work.

“Thank you,” Arthur said turning away, but not before he saw Merlin’s fond smile, and he knew that all would be forgiven, and Al would even be treated to the rest of the ruined biscuits.


End file.
